She crept closer when His Grace wasn’t looking. He still studied the sky, muttering something about the atmospheric pressure.


    “Miss, are you certain that we are safe? He is completely bonkers!” She hissed, her eyes nervously flickering back to Baxter Read.


    “We are safe, Janine,” I assured her, whispering. “He… He does this constantly.”


    “This k-kind of low p-pressure can b-be troubling, don’t you t-think so, Lady Ashlyn, M-Miss Janine?” He suddenly turned to face us.


    I instantly jerked my head away from Janine’s while plastering on a sweet smile. “Why yes, I-”


    Blast it, the gentleman chuntered on - far worse than an old gossipmonger.


    “-C-Changes in barometric p-pressure can induce h-headache, especially m-migraines among l-ladies.”


    As if a disorderly galloping horse, he talked right over me – his sentences a spew of chaotic and rushed words.


    “I really don’t-”


    “-They o-often experience headaches when it’s r-rainy and humid o-outside,” he bobbed his head, not listening to a single word that came out of my mouth.


    Janine appeared utterly perturbed her wide eyes as owl’s, fearfully flickering to the way we came from.


    “Ah! R-Raspberry juice! T-Thank you, J-James,” Baxter Read grabbed two glasses, almost knocking the plate out of the poor butler’s hands. He gave one to me and Janine, before he took another glass for himself.


    “This is excellent, Your Grace!” I hummed when I tasted the sweet yet pleasantly cool liquid on my tongue.


    “H-Homemade and f-freshly squeezed,” he beamed at me.


    “Oh, Lady A-Ashlyn!” He turned around so fast; I was afraid he would drop the glass he was holding between his hands. “H-Have I t-told you about m-my horses?” He asked enthusiastically.


    I was unable to stop the dread that crept up my spine.


    “I am pretty certain you have,” I smiled at him while gritting my teeth.


    He completely ignored me as he dived further into his monologue. “I a-am selling o-one of my F-Friesian stallions. T-Thor is a v-very nicely d-developed animal w-with excellent m-motorics! Perfect f-for sports and e-especially suitable for hunting. W-Would you l-like to take a l-look at him? I c-can agree on 45 p-pounds, but n-normally my p-price would be h-higher.”The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Heavens above, was he trying to bargain with me?


    “Your Grace, I am not intending to buy one of your horses. Truly,” I almost choked on my juice. Under my lashes I rapidly sneaked a peek at Janine, who watched him as though he just landed from the Moon.


    He approached me all the while wildly waving his free hand right in front of my face.


    His avid gesticulation simply called for a disaster.


    “W-We can s-settle on a l-lower price. How a-about 40? What d-do you s-say?”


    How utterly maddening. How do I make him aware of the fact that my family was on a brink of a financial collapse? Surely, he has heard the rumors. Taking a long deep breath, I put on a mask of serenity.


    “You Grace, I am very humbled by your generous offer, but I must decline.”


    “Oh. A-Are you c-certain?” He asked, somewhat disappointed.


    “I am absolutely certain, Your Grace,” I nodded firmly, hoping he would let the subject slide. “May I ask you a question?” I desperately wanted to divert our conversation in another direction – any direction that didn’t include horses or weather for that matter.


    “Have y-you ever s-seen a F-Friesian in a h-horse race, My Lady?” He once again dismissed my inquiry.


    One who wasn’t acquainted with him would think him bad-mannered or offensive, but I knew enough by now to know he wasn’t trying to be impolite on purpose.


    “I can’t say that I have, Your Grace. I’ve never been to a race before.” I tried my hardest to stifle a yawning reflex, hiding my mouth behind a glass. “Your Grace, how about we-”


    “-Many of m-my sold h-horses were u-used in horse r-racing and o-often came o-out as v-victorious,” he shot out his arm to point at the stables at the edge of the property.


    Regrettably, that was the same hand he was holding the glass with. As if in slow motion I watched with horror when the bright red liquid spilled all over the bodice of my cream-colored dress.


    “Oh, dear!” Janine squeaked, hurrying toward us.


    I simply stood there, completely stunned, watching as pastel red flowers spurted all over my new gown.


    “O God!” W-What have I d-done?” His Grace nervously buried his hands into his hair, frantically pulling at the ends. Upon waking from his dazed state, he drew out a handkerchief, fully intending on dabbing my bodice with it.


    “Your Grace, what are you doing?” I shot him a glare of disbelief before taking a step back.


    “I…” His face went beet red as he read the unease in my eyes. “Oh! L-Lord! I d-didn’t mean t-to touch y-you, Lady A-Ashlyn! You h-have to b-believe me!” He waved his hands in front of him. “I d-destroyed your d-dress and I o-only wanted t-to help!”


    “It’s fine, Your Grace, really,” I sighed with exasperation. The main source of annoyance wasn’t the dress itself but rather a certain gentleman in front of me. Coming here was a dreadful mistake and I had only myself to blame. Now, what was left to be done was to get out of here – as fast as possible.


    “I am sorry Your Grace, but I am afraid it’s time for me to depart. I really need to clean myself up,” I forced a smile on my lips, but such pretense was hard to maintain.


    I haven’t got a slightest idea why was I so foolish when I agreed to meet him. Why was I so mellow and caved in to his pleas?


    “B-But, My Lady!” He rushed forward to stop me.


    “Please, Your Grace. I am all right, I swear. Thank you so much for showing me your lovely garden,” I glanced at Janine, willing her to help me escape.


    “Miss!” She at last awoke from her baffled stupor. “We’d better get going or you will catch cold,” she grasped me under the arm.


    “W-Wait! Lady A-Ashlyn, please t-take my c-carriage. I w-will accompany y-you to y-your home,” Baxter Read pleaded with me. His was forced to pick up the pace, taking rapid strides in order to keep up with us.


    “Thank you, Your Grace. But that won’t be necessary,” I pointed at the carriage parked on the other side of the street. “We hired a hackney when we came here. He is waiting for us.”